I’ve struggled with depression for most of my life. I remember having thoughts of not wanting to be alive starting when I was 7 or 8 years old. Those thoughts have never completely gone away. I was prescribed an antidepressant for the first time when I was 26 years old. It helped some but ended up making my headaches worse so I stopped taking it. I thought I could manage things on my own, like I always did.

A little over a month shy of my 35th birthday, I attempted suicide. I spent 9 days in the ICU. My heart stopped a couple times and I was on a ventilator. If I had arrived at the ER 15 minutes later than I did, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’ve been on an antidepressant since then. I’m 42 years old now, and for the most part, I’m happy, but there are times depression rears its ugly head. Sometimes I know right away that I’m depressed, so I’m able to take action to safely ride it out, or pull myself away from its grasp. Other times, the dark despair creeps in, and thoughts of wanting to end it all fill my mind.

Those are the dangerous times. Thank gods my husband knows what signs to look for, and while his multitude of questions irritate me at the time, it’s the jolt my brain needs to let me know things are getting bad again. I make sure to tell him when the depression and suicidal thoughts have their grip, so he keeps an eye on the means to carry out my thoughts. Sometimes he has to be in possession of my means and prevent me from having unsupervised access until I’m okay again.

I always feel fucking guilty for telling him when I’m not okay. He shouldn’t have to deal with it, deal with me. But he says he always wants to know what’s going on…it’s an odd concept to me, having grown up in a home where emotions were not allowed to be expressed, and having abusive partners in the past.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of believing no one would give a shit if I was gone. I really try to stop myself from falling in that pit, but sometimes I still slip. Continuing to recognize when I’m not okay and talking about it are big steps that will hopefully lead to an overall reduction in depression and suicidal thoughts. I will keep pushing forward.

It was getting bad again, but I’m pulling myself out of it. I will be okay.